


Transition Period

by landerson



Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-18 13:56:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18700966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/landerson/pseuds/landerson
Summary: A new threat looms above Roarhaven. Deeply disturbing records of horrifying monsters who roam the streets. It is up to the unlikely crack detective team of Cain, Scapegrace and Gerald to figure out who or what is causing this and take them down.





	1. The Pub

**Author's Note:**

> A note! I’m gonna be going off script from the cannon at points. Don’t worry, I am deeply in love with the lore of the stories. I wouldn’t change that for the world, but this is a pet project of mine. I really hope you like it. I'm just the American fan who is a little saddened by the wait I have to go through for Bedlam.
> 
> This fits best after Resurrection because Val is back in Ireland. But a few major events are gonna be changed, and some of the major characters are gonna be ignored. I’m sorry, I loved the angle with the school, but I’m gonna let Omen chill along with his dope friends and my one true love, Never.
> 
> So I’m gonna try to stay true to the characterization, and I hope you all understand that I love these stories and am butchering out some of the events of Resurrection out of that love and devotion.

Vaurien Scapegrace, King of Zombies, ran a damp rag across the bar. A few stragglers finished their drinks and shuffled their ways to the door. The night was cold in winter weather, and patrons would pull their coats tight as they left.

Roarhaven’s best and brightest were attracted to Vaurien’s domain, and as he cleaned, he thought of his future. The next reasonable step would be to start an open mic night. There was an exposed brick wall at one end of the pub that would perfectly fit the atmosphere.

In his mind, it was a scene of Russian intellectuals, buying shots of vodka and seeding poetry. The pub would become a tourist destination for years to come, with a plaque out from that read: Vaurien’s Spirits, from which the soul of revolution spread through art and… and like, stuff.  
He wrote out the sketch on a bar napkin as Gerald popped up behind him and asked, “What’s that?”

Vaurien covered the writing with his hand. “Plans. Just thinking of ways to make our business even more great. What are you doing back here? I thought we agreed no drinking on the job."

Gerald gave a broad smile and reached under the bar to grab another roll of receipt tape. “I was out.”

Vaurien gave a strong nod and went back to revising his pub’s epigraph.

“What’s that?”

Vaurien flushed, “Gerald, why do--” He looked up and saw Valkyrie Cain, leaning over the bar.

“Hi, Scapey.” She had grown considerably since their last encounter. She was definitely older than the 13 year old he had dangled off a rooftop.

“Ms. Cain, hello. To what do I owe the pleasure,” he slid the napkin away.

“Shot of whiskey.”

“Last call was 30 minutes ago.”

Valkyrie gave a frown and reached over the bar to grab the napkin.

Vaurien snapped it back and sighed, “Okay, I’ll make an exception.”

“Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

“Did your… partner tag along.”

“No,” she gave a cold, blunt answer.

“Cool. Well--”

“What’s up with you? It’s not like you to be hiding your ambition from anyone. What’s it say?”

He poured her shot and set it in front of her, “It’s not finished yet. I’m still thinking it through. I don’t like to give people the idea that I have half-baked plans.”

 

“I can’t think of a single plan of yours that you didn’t see to the end,” she gave a smirk and tilted her head back to let the entire shot go down her throat.

“You realize you are talking to the zombie king. I’ve grown, Detective Cain.”

“Well, your majesty, another please,” she pushed the glass to the side.

“Where are you staying tonight?”

“I’ll get a taxi home. Or call Fletcher. Don’t worry about me.”

“Fletcher… you mean the kid with the weird hair who you dated for half a second?”

“How do you know we dated?”

“He’s a big deal in the city. People like to gossip about the love affairs of celebrities,” he put down the shot in front of her. “Besides, being cheated on really humanizes him.”

Valkyrie gave a glare, “There goes your tip.”

Vaurien shrugged, “Worth it for all the times you and the skeleton abused me.”

“You’re a criminal.”

“Reformed. But not thanks to Sanctuary jails.”

“I’m sorry you didn’t have a good stay.”

“There’s a big difference between punishment and exploitation. Do you want me to jog your memory of what you did to me? Every time I saw you, it was abuse after abuse. I was helpless.”

“You tried to kill me.”

“And I am sorry for that. I’ve never really said that, but I was a young man, and I’ve learned the error of my ways. Hopefully, we can share in our growth.”

She took the next shot, “Another.”

“Hey, Cain, pace yourself.”

“Or what?”

“I’ll cut you off.”

She threw down 50 euros on the table.

He looked at her, his voice becoming more sympathetic, “We haven’t seen you around in a while. We heard you saved the world again.”

“A good team.”

He poured her another shot. “Would you want to save the world again?”

“Like, professionally? I don’t know. I don’t think I can be the one to do that. I’m not strong enough.”

“You look pretty powerful to me.”

She placed a finger on his white aura that occasionally flared but stayed in his body, keeping him animated. “It’s more about psychological strength than anything.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place.”

She winced as the next shot overstayed its welcome on her pallet. “It would seem so.”

Gerald walked behind the bar again, and Valkyrie brimmed, “Thrasher, hi. Remember me?”

He turned and touched her hand, and she recoiled a bit at his cold skin. “How could I forget you? You’ve gotten so much taller.”

Vaurien folded his arms. “He’s Gerald.”

Val nodded, “Sorry about that, Gerald.”

Gerald waved off the miscommunication, “Nah, it’s fine. It’s just good to know you’re alright.”

“I am. Thank you. You guys have a nice thing going here,” she looked between the two of them. “It’s shaping up to be something special.”

Gerald threw an arm around Vaurien, “The place is amazing, and it’s only going to get better. Live music. More mood lighting. We’re really excited.”

Val left the 50 and stood, “Well, nice catching up with you two. I’m gonna hit the hay.”

“Come back soon!”

Val left and looked around at the street before her. Her breath hung in clouds around her, but she took a left turn and just started walking. Street lamps lit her way through the quiet city. With the large Cathedral to her right, she followed the streets with ceaseless forward momentum.

A couple walked toward her, holding hands and laughing, and Val stepped to the side to allow them space. She turned her head down and felt warmth course through her as the whiskey took hold of her system. 

At the edge of the city, she turned and weaved through a less well-lit part of town. A light began to flicker, and fear made her stop dead in her tracks.

“Don’t be paranoid,” she chided herself and kept walking.

The next turn she made, she was greeted by a group of cloaked figures. Again, she found that she couldn’t move.

Then, one of the cloaked figures moved towards her.


	2. The Cause

The cloaked figure removed their hood, and a woman with short, brown hair smiled at Val, “Are you here to join?”

Val blinked, “Excuse me?”

“To join?”

“To join what exactly?”

“Oh, pardon my assumption. You seem to have stumbled on our group. But we’re always looking for new recruits. Our mission is to establish the matriarchy at all costs.”

Val squinted. “I think I’ve heard of your organization before.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Our influence is really spreading.”

“So like, getting rid of men. I really get the appeal--”

“Right? But that itself can be misguided. I know I myself felt that misguided impulse when I was an initiate.”

"So which men are we getting rid of?”

“You just hit on a good question there. Well, 'men' itself is a social construct, and as our sovereign Judith Butler would say: a performative act of society. We want to destroy the toxic version of manhood we see in the world today. And if that means cracking a few bad eggs, so be it. But in the analysis of power in the world, we have found that even in magic, women are left behind. No longer, we say.”

“Cool, is there like a pamphlet I can bring home just to think all this over.”

“Well, no pamphlet, but I have a business card with a reading list on the back of it.” She fumbled in the deep pocket of her cloak.

Val took the crisp card with thick paper stock. “Sharon?”

“That’s me.”

“Oh, Finbar’s wife?”

Her smile faded. “Yeah, you knew him.”

“Yeah, I was at the parlor a few times. I’m Valkyrie.”

“Oh, he mentioned you sometimes. Said you were Skulduggery’s apprentice. He used to sense dark things in your future. Thought you would kill him one day. It was more amusing a prospect when you were a precocious 13 year old. But he was always so happy to see the progress you were making.”

“I’m truly sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you. He was good, and he didn’t deserve to die like that. So uneventful. But at least he died doing what he loved best: making me love him.”

Valkyrie blinked back a few tears.

“Oh,” she hugged Valkyrie and rubbed her back. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

Valkyrie started crying into the near stranger’s shoulder.

“Please, come over for tea some time. We would love to have you. Me and the little one.”

“I think I would like that.”

“Good. Stay for the ritual?”

“I think I should get home. But a rain check.”

“Alright.”

Valkyrie got away from the group and found herself wandering down an alleyway. She stumbled through the dark to the other side.

That was when she heard the first moan.

She looked around again but continued walking.

A second wailing moan started up, and it was followed with shuffling footsteps.

Valkyrie picked up her pace until she was sprinting.

Then, at the street, she came face to face with a hoard of a dozen zombies. They all looked at her with blank, white eyes and shambled towards her.

“What is this? Who are you?”

They moved slowly towards her, stretching out their arms.

“Did Vaurien ask you to do this?” Panic raced through her as she conjured energy to her hands, feeling a weakened pulse from her fear. Flight was the instinct of choice.

The only thing they seemed to be able to do was moan.

“Haha, okay. You got me. Jokes over,” she was stumbling backwards. “Leave me alone.”

They made no signs of understanding.

Valkyrie turned around and took off in the other direction, her movement muddled by alcohol as she made her escape. In running away, she saw a man rested against a wall. When she passed him, he woke and looked over at the hoard now advancing toward them. He tried to stand, but had to lean against the wall for support.

Valkyrie turned and sighed as she saw there was suddenly no other option.

Emitting a ball of energy, she took a breath to steady herself and unleashed it at the first line of zombies, taking out 4 of them. The wind was knocked out of her, and she stumbled. The hoard drew closer, and Valkyrie pulled up her fists again. She was swaying, but she transmuted a lightning bolt that struck down another 4 of the zombies.

But the 4 were now coming at her faster than she could conjure her strength.

The man came from behind her and snapped his finger, summoning a fireball in his palm. The zombies regrouped and descended on the man, their weight forcing him to the ground, but one after another, they were forced to off of him by the fire until only one was left and snapping its teeth at the man’s neck.

Valkyrie pushed forward with a yell and kicked the zombie’s abdomen, sending it sprawling away from the man. She hurled another ball of energy at its chest, and it disappeared.

As she looked around, the other zombies, too, were nowhere to be seen. She took deep breaths and looked at the man, “Are you alright?”  
“Yeah, thank you.”

“Okay,” she took out her wallet. “Do you have somewhere to go tonight?”

His eyes widened, “No…”

“Here, stay safe,” she handed him 100 and walked away.

“Thank you. Hey, thanks for not leaving me for zombie food.”

“Any time,” she walked away, this time with anger in every step. “He’s gonna regret this. Never trust an ex-con, Val.”


	3. King of the Dead

When Valkyrie got back to the pub, the door was locked. She groaned and took a step back. She found her center and kicked down the door with a crash.

Gerald was at the bar, counting the money in the drawer and looked up at her. He held up his hands, “Take the money. Don’t hurt me.”

“Where’s Vaurien,” she growled.

“I don’t have to tell you that.”

“He tried to kill me.”

“He’s right. You do hold a grudge. Have you thought about seeking counseling?”

“He tried to kill me a few minutes ago.”

“He couldn’t have. He was in the kitchen the whole time.”

She walked with a determined step behind the counter and into the kitchen. Vaurien was stirring a pot on the stove and looked over to see her push him against a wall.

“I never bought your ‘Good Guy’ act for five seconds.” She pushed her fists against his chest, squeezing him tight against the wall.

“Let go of me!”

She let them collapse to the ground. "What did I do to deserve you trying to kill me again? Why didn't you just be honest with me that you still want me dead?"

“There must be a misunderstanding.”

“I’m going to call the Sanctuary and have them remember everything you did. You’re not ‘reformed.’ You’re a disgusting excuse for a living creature.”

“Please, let me explain myself. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t deserve explanations. You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve happiness.”

She felt the world spin and a ringing started in her ears.

She fell backwards to see Gerald standing with a glass bottle in his hand.

After moments of black out, she came to with Vaurien and Gerald tying arms behind her to a pole.

Gerald crossed his arms, “First off, you’re gonna fix that door.”

Valkyrie shoke them off of her, “Gerald, I don’t want to drag you into this, but if you don’t untie me, you’ll be an accomplice.”

“What happened?”

“I was attacked by a horde of zombies.”

Vaurien sighed, “So obviously it must be me? Like all zombie hoards are my own? You know, in my time in a woman’s body I learned a little something you could do with: perspective. You’ve got some prejudice to work through.”

“Wow, that is a lot to digest right now. Especially seeing as how you had all the motivation to do it, and I don’t see a lot of other zombies who have been known to turn people in the past.”

“It wasn’t me. I don’t know what to tell you. Can you describe them? Maybe I have can help you find who really is behind this.”

She put her head back and winced in pain. “There were a bunch of them. They looked like they were turned a while ago. They looked ragged. They had blank eyes.”

“Blank eyes?”

“Like, completely white.”

“That wasn't what ours looked like.”

“Well, you better believe it.”

“Trust me, I had nothing to do with this. And to prove I’m one of the good guys, I’m going to help you find whoever is making new zombie hoards. Gerald and I are gonna go off to Necropolis and clear my name. Feel free to fix the door you broke,” he stood and prodded Gerald to leave with him.

“You’re just gonna leave me here.”

He paused at the door, “Yes. I think I am. Think of it as a callback.”


End file.
